Declaiming Waters, None May Dread...

Tomorrow morning I am going to wake up at 5 o'clock and jump into a medium-sized pool filled with lukewarm water. I'm still not really sure why I'm going to be doing this.
The following thoughts will be going through my mind.
Oh man am I tiiiiired. Wow. I'm actually about to fall asleep while walking. Don't do that. Thinking of something shocking. Recent studies have shown that large swarms of pesticide-resistant killer bees are on the rise in the Southwestern United States.
Thats better.
Ok, la lala lala, putting my suit on, la lala, damn this thing is tight, hmm hmmhmm, theeeere we go. Everything in order? Yup. Ok, walkin on the pool deck, strrrreeeetchin my arms, geez, am I really that hairy? I'm like friggin homo halibis. Gimme a club and a loincloth, and I could have been an extra in 10,000 BC.
Ooook, time to get in the water! Huh. It doesn't look that cold. Doesn't feel that cold. Hey, maybe this won't be so bad after all! Ok, on three. One. Two. Three. Four. Damn. Ok, on eight. Six. Seven. Eigh-
FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcoldcoldcoldcoldcoldfuckfuckcoldcoldfuckcomegatherroundpeoplewhereeveryouroamandadmitsweeetJesusitscoold!

This will essentially go on for the next three or four minutes. Don't worry. I get used to it.
I always wondered why I decided to swim for exercise. Definitely not for the competitive aspect. I considered the various diamond facets of my future a while back, and winning gold in the Men's 200 Free was not among them. To be perfectly honest, I'm an ok, maybe slightly above average swimmer. Nothing spectacular. If I was ranked on a fish scale, with a halibut being a swimmer who can't go 25 yards without inhaling their body weight in water, and a swordfish is a swimmer who I'm pretty sure is part merman/maid, I'm about a cod.
Or maybe one of the smaller tunas.
Really, the thing I love about swimming is that it gives me time to think, when I'm struggling not to drown on backstroke flip turns (I'm getting better). I do some of my best thinking in the water, uninterrupted, with just the muffled sound of filters and the staccato of my legs reminding me of the outside world. When I was 10, for example, I mentally constructed a lengthy poem about chocolate pie while swimming a particularly dreary 1000. And then I got out of the water and promptly forgot it.
I would do that, wouldn't I?

A girl in my Spanish class was having a bad day today, so I decided to cheer her up with a corny joke.
Me: Hey C., want to hear a joke?
C:(confused) Sure...
Me: Ok, so who's bigger, Mr. Bigger or Mr. Bigger's son?
C: (disinterested) Who...
Me:(freakishly enthusiastic) His son! Cause he's just a little bigger!!!
(Awkward silence. I stop grinning after about five seconds and pretend to conjugate some verbs)
I hate it when things like that happen.

I dreamed last night that I was in a Hollywood moooovie...